Walking in the sunlight across the wide lawn, arms and shoulders bumping periodically as if to check the other was still there . . . The day was perfect, not too hot and yet no clouds. Instead a breeze from somewhere celestial acted to condition the air and fend off the sweat, bringing with it the sweet smell of the grass and the hint of water somewhere past the horizon.
They didn't speak but stole glances. She would look dartingly up and to her right, and he would smile patiently back at her, until finally he dared to move his arm a little farther outward and catch her to his side. She settled there contentedly, and their walking necessarily slowed, made more complicated by the attempt to hold together.
But the sun was sliding down the far side of heaven's vault, and soon they would be in a room filled with people, and these little pleasures would dissolve. All the more reason then to savor them now, before they became the spun sugar of memory.
For a second his hold tightened. Then, as they neared the house, he let her go.